Ghosts of Winchester Mansion
by Haitus80
Summary: When Daryl finds himself in trouble again he is looking forward to a three day suspension from school, but thanks to Carol he gets sucked into spending Halloween with her, cleaning up the old Winchester Mansion. They know the place is haunted but neither of them are prepared for the secrets they unearth, or the horrors that the house has in store for them.
1. Chapter 1

**This is just a short story for the Halloween challenge over on Ninelives. Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!**

 **Chapter One**

Daryl sat slumped in his chair, his eyes trained on a spot on the wall behind the bald mans head. He had heard this all before. He had been in this damn office every week since school started and he was sick of it. Principle Daniels was a pain in the ass. He was just a know it all pencil neck fuck that thought he was better than everyone else. He got on Daryl's nerves.

"So, Mr. Dixon. What brings you in here today?" The pompous bastard asked, his muddy brown eyes narrowed on Daryl.

Daryl shrugged. "Same thing I was in here for last week."

The mans face reddened slightly. "And why was that?"

"Same thing I was in here for the week before that," Daryl smirked as the vein in the mans forehead started to bulge. He was sure he was going to give the man a stroke before the end of the year. And they said he had no goals.

Daryl didn't even flinch when the mans hands slammed onto the desktop. He raised up, leaning in on his arms. "You think your cute? Is that it? You think you can strut right through these halls and do and say what you want without any consequence?"

Daryl rolled his eyes. "You gonna suspend me or what? That's how I'll learn my lesson. Days off," he drawled, making himself more comfortable in his seat.

"Goddamn it! You watch your tone when you speak to me, boy!" The man roared.

Daryl's brows shot up and he fought a smile. "That how you speak to all your students, or just the ones you think are sexy? I don't know Mr. Daniels. I don't think you're allowed to talk to me like that."

The man sat down in his seat, his face flaming and his eyes flashing angrily. He didn't say anything for a few seconds and then he smiled slightly. "And who exactly are you going to tell Mr. Dixon? Your father?"

Daryl stiffened.

Mr. Daniels smiled. "Oh that's right. He's laid up drunk somewhere right?"

"Fuck you," Daryl spat, standing up from his seat.

Just then the door opened up and Daryl sat back down. A familiar looking girl stepped in, shoving her curly auburn hair behind her ears and looking down. "I'm sorry Mr. Daniels. They didn't say you had someone in here."

The man seemed to relax and offered the girl a smile. "Carol, no worries. What can I do for you?"

She glanced at Daryl and then shifted on her feet nervously. "I was wondering if you still needed some volunteers to help clean up the Winchester Mansion? The Historical Society will be coming in two weeks, sir, and it still needs cleaned."

Mr. Daniels steepled his fingers and eyed the girl. "You do remember that tonight is Halloween, right? It isn't every year that it falls on a Friday. You don't have plans?"

The girl's face flamed a bright red and she shook her head before glancing at Daryl.

Daryl's eyes turned back to the principle's when he heard him chuckle. "Well, now, you are very right. It's time we buckled down and got that old place cleaned up. As a matter of fact, Carol Ann, you are the only volunteer so far. But I can't very well have you working alone."

"I don't mind, really," Carol said quickly.

Daryl scowled as the mans eyes slid over to meet his. "But I do think we can remedy that. As a matter of fact I was just trying to come up with something I can do to punish Mr. Dixon here for the stunt he pulled in the lunch room this afternoon. I think I've got it." The man grinned.

Daryl opened his mouth to say something but he didn't get a chance. Suddenly Carol was speaking. "Mr. Daniels, I don't mean to stick my nose where it doesn't belong but I was in the lunch room today. The only reason Daryl was in a fight was because those other boys were pushing around Milton Mammot and Daryl intervened."

Mr. Daniels looked up at the girl, his eyes no longer friendly. "Be that as it may, young lady, that doesn't mean he didn't just sit right here in this room and curse at me. He'll be with you this afternoon. I'll show the two of you what needs to be done myself."

"I ain't gonna be there," Daryl growled, standing up.

Mr. Daniels shrugged. "That's fine too. But remember that you're close to being held back, Daryl. You want to repeat your Sophomore year? Your brother didn't like the idea and dropped out. Where did that get him?"

Daryl glared. He wasn't going to quit school but he sure as hell wasn't going to go through the stuck in this place any longer than he had to be. The man knew as much and he smiled. "Fine, asshole," Daryl growled as he headed towards the door.

Carol blanched and her eyes went wide at his blatant hostility towards the principal.

He stormed out into the hall, ready to get his shit and get the fuck out of this dump. He had missed his last class since the dumb ass Daniels decided to make him wait for forty five minutes before seeing him. The asshole had probably been in there jerking off, the sick fuck. Daryl couldn't wait until he was out of here for good.

He wanted to blame the damn girl for this mess but he really couldn't. It wasn't like it was her fault that she had found herself at the wrong place at the wrong time asking the wrong goddamn questions. Why the hell was she volunteering her time to clean a dusty old mansion that nobody gave two fucks about anyway?

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, startling him out of his thoughts. He hadn't even realized she was walking with him. "I had no idea he would force you to help me. If you want I can do all the work. You shouldn't be the one getting punished for that fight anyway."

He glanced at her and shrugged. "I don't care either way. Wasn't like I had shit else to do," he said to reassure her, not knowing why he felt compelled to reassure her at all.

She offered him a shy smile and then hurried towards her locker. She must have managed to get a hall pass. She was lucky. He stopped at his own locker, further down the hall and then the bell rang. Five seconds later the other students were pouring out of classrooms. He did everything he could to avoid looking at any of them. He really hated this place but there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it right now.

~H~

Carol felt sorry for the boy. Well, when she wasn't feeling sorry for herself. He didn't seem to make friends easily. He had been in a lot of fights since coming here but one thing she always noticed was that he never seemed to start them. That didn't matter to the teachers though. It also didn't matter to Mr. Daniels, who she had always thought was a fair man until now.

She grabbed her hoodie and zipped it up to her chin before quietly closing her locker. She wished, not for the first time, that she had waited to talk about volunteering to do some cleaning at the mansion. Now Daryl Dixon was stuck helping her and she knew that he probably had better things to do on Halloween. She had probably ruined his whole night.

Shouldering her book bag she headed towards the doors that would lead her out into the gloomy fall day. The weather was dry so far but the clouds were dark and ominous. She smiled to herself. She had chose tonight to help clean the mansion because it was the perfect time of year to get lost in the halls and dark cavernous rooms of the grand house. What could possibly be spookier than being in a long abandoned mansion that was rumored to be haunted on Halloween?

Her parents wouldn't be home until Monday and even though she had hinted around to her friends that she didn't have any plans she still hadn't been invited to go to any of the parties that they had spent the week talking about. She wasn't bold enough to just invite herself and she wasn't pathetic enough to tag along without an invite, or to sulk about it.

So she had decided to do her own thing and volunteer at the mansion. And now she was going to be stuck with Daryl Dixon, who wasn't very friendly at all and who probably held a grudge against her for giving Mr. Daniels the idea in the first place.

They were suppose to meet Mr. Daniels at the mansion at four so she hurriedly changed into an old pair of jeans and a hooded sweatshirt she had bought recently with a skull on the front. She wasn't one of those goth kids but she did love Halloween so she hadn't been able to resist the purchase.

She made sandwiches and stuffed them into her bag along with chips and other snacks. After squeezing in some cans of Coke she was ready. She hurriedly crunched through the leaves on her way to the old road. She paused at the entrance. Thick trees spread out on either side of the lane, their skeletal branches reaching up as though they wanted to grab hold of the low hanging clouds. She swallowed hard. There was a no trespassing sign hanging on a nearby post and she wondered vaguely why they bothered hanging it up in the first place. She didn't know anyone crazy enough to come here alone. Not anymore.

Other than herself, of course. And even she was having second thoughts. She told herself that the chill running up her spine was due to the cold and nothing more and she told herself that the fine hairs standing on end on the back of her neck was just the electric charge from the pending storm. The stories about the house were only that, stories. The Winchester Mansion was just a harmless dwelling. Sad and harmless...

"So why did you bring that voice recorder and the camera, dummy," she muttered as she pushed through the wrought iron gaits. At one time the place had been scattered with winding paths through lush gardens and well maintained trees and shrubbery. Now everything was brown, overgrown and sagging as if the land itself was in mourning, weeping for the condition it found itself in.

The house was made of stone that had been brought over from England about one hundred and forty five years ago. It was a massive three story Victorian monster that huddled in the center of the property, imposing. It looked like it was waiting for something.

Maybe for her.

She passed a large fountain that sat in the middle of the circular drive, her pace slowing the closer she got to the wide steps.

"You know, you look pretty spooked for this all to be your idea."

She jumped at the sound of a voice coming from the deeper shadows of the porch. She was seconds away from turning around and running all the way back home until Daryl Dixon stepped into the watery light and planted his butt on the top step. She blew a strand of hair out of her face and tried to control her pulse. "I'm not spooked," she said but even she could hear the breathy quality of her voice.

He just shrugged and rubbed his hands together for warmth. "When is Dick Face Daniels suppose to be here? I'm fuckin' freezin'?" He asked, not taking the opening to make fun of her for nearly jumping out of her skin earlier.

She climbed the steps and sat down beside him, making sure she kept her distance because something told her that he preferred his space. She glanced at her watch and frowned. "He was suppose to be here ten minutes ago actually. Have you been here very long?"

"Since I left school. I already tried the door. It's locked."

"I guess we just have to wait on him then," she said as she gazed towards the mouth of the drive.

"Fuck that asshole," Daryl said, standing. "He said to be here at four and I was here before that. He didn't say a damn thing about sitting on my ass waiting for him to get here."

Something like panic had her standing. "You can't leave. Look, we'll just get started without him and then when he gets here that'll be less time we have to put up with him, right?"

Daryl looked at her, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You're scared."

She scoffed and glanced towards the door. "I'm not scared. Maybe I just don't want to see you getting held back."

Now he was scoffing. "You don't even know me."

She shrugged and marched across the wide porch towards the huge oak doors.

"I done told you they're lo-"

She twisted the knob and pushed the door open. Glancing over her shoulder she offered him a sly smile. "You sure you weren't just too scared to go in there by yourself?"

He snorted and pushed past her, walking right into the house without a backward glance. "They were locked. I swear, I tried twice to get in. You're the one scared of the damn driveway, not me."

She scowled, took a deep steadying breath, and then followed him inside, shutting the door behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

He hadn't lied to the girl. Those damn doors had been locked up tight. He'd even tried to shoulder them open but the heavy wood had held fast. Then she just turns the knob and they open right up. It gave him an uneasy feeling. If he was being honest with himself this whole situation gave him an uneasy feeling.

The interior of the place was dim. The watery light fought to penetrate the dirty windows but it did very little to illuminate the space. They were standing in a huge foyer that could probably hold three houses the size of his. A massive chandelier hung above them and at the end of the room was a wide staircase. Doors branched off on either side of the wide space. He let out a low whistle. Even with cobwebs hanging from everything and dust and debris littering the marble floors, he couldn't help but imagine what it must have looked like a hundred years ago.

"I've been here before but it amazes me every time. Could you imagine this place at it's peak?" The quiet reverence in her voice had him glancing over at her. Wide blue eyes were taking in the room and he knew she was more than enamored with the place.

"It woulda been somethin' alright," he muttered, paying a lot more attention to her now. He had seen her around school plenty of times but he'd never really paid much attention to her. She was always with a group of other girls but one thing he did notice was that she wasn't much like them. She was quiet, almost bookish. But now that he was paying attention, he almost couldn't look away.

"The Winchester family started building this place five years after the Civil War. No one knows where they came from or how they had amassed their fortune. They were recluses but they were rich recluses so I guess that made it okay. There were all kinds of stories about the family. People claimed they could hear screaming at night. Animals disappeared from peoples barns. At one time it was said that every year or so, children would start disappearing. Snatched up right out of their beds, never to be seen again. Nothing like that had ever happened until the Winchesters moved in. It was rumored that they were into some dark stuff."

He watched her glancing around as she spoke in a low voice. "I'm surprised this place ain't been torn to shit then. Sounds like the type of place teenagers would come and wreck."

She shook her head and turned to meet his eyes. "I've heard that several groups of teenagers have tried since the house became abandoned."

He raised a brow, waiting for her to go on.

She shrugged. "The first time something like that almost happened was in 1956. A group of teenagers had the grand idea of coming out here and busting out the windows and getting drunk."

He frowned. "What happened to them?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Their car somehow crashed as soon as they hit the driveway. Three were killed and one, well, they never found his body. In 1962 a couple came out here to... be alone. The boy somehow fell over the banister," she pointed to a spot near the staircase, "and landed right there. His girlfriend was found in a closet, locked from the outside. She was taken to an asylum somewhere."

"Jesus," he muttered, staring at the spot she had indicated.

She nodded. "1968 a group of hippie types came here and planned on squatting. They wanted to turn it into some kind of psychedelic oasis. One of the members must have had a bad trip because he killed his friends. Fourteen people were killed in their sleep, blunt force trauma to the head. You'd think someone would have woken up but the reports say that none of them had seen it coming. They were all sharing a room up on the second floor. The boy that did it walked right into the police station, soaked in blood. He couldn't speak. He just wrote "Winchester Mansion" on a piece of paper. He never went to trial. I heard he was admitted to the same asylum that the girl had been admitted to back in '62."

"And you _wanted_ to come out here?" He asked, scowling. "You ain't never wondered why the fuck everybody that seems to come to this place finds themselves either dead or crazy?" He was ready to get the hell out of the place himself. He would be the first to admit that he was a superstitious guy.

Her eyes widened. "Are you telling me you believe in ghost?"

He gestured around the room. "You tellin' me that you don't?"

"Of course I do. Why do you think I wanted to come out here tonight?"

He shook his head. "Great. Just great," he grumbled. "I'm gonna be dead before I even get my driver's license."

They both looked towards the open double doors as a clap of thunder shook the windows. "Damn it," she muttered, walking towards them quickly. "I thought I closed these."

He caught her wrist just before she was about to close them. He wasn't some pussy that got spooked easily but he had a bad feeling about the place. A very bad feeling. "Look, maybe we should just get the hell outta here. Daniels didn't show so it ain't like he can say much if we take off."

She glanced down at his hand that was still gripping her wrist lightly, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. He dropped his hand and took a step back. They both turned as another crack of thunder seemed to tear the seams of the clouds. Rain started coming down in sheets and a cold wind tore the door out of her hand, causing it to slam against the wall.

"Fuck," he growled. There was no way they could walk back home in this. She gripped the door and he helped her push it closed against the wind that seemed to come out of nowhere. Once it was shut they both put their backs against it and stood in silence for a while.

"Okay, I know you don't want to be here but we _are_ here and we aren't going to be able to leave for a while. We may as well get started," she said, stepping away from the door and turning to face him.

He leaned the back of his head against the wood and stared up at the heavy chandelier. "I 'spose that's all we can do."

She grinned. "That's the spirit. And if it makes you feel any better, the ghosts here probably won't kill us. We aren't here to hurt the house. We're here to help it."

He snorted. "If you say so. Where the hell do we start? This whole damn place is fuckin' filthy. It'll take a lot more than us to get it back in shape before that society comes to sniff around."

Shrugging she led him towards the stairs. "I say we start on the second floor and work our way down. We may as well tackle the hard stuff first. The third floor is mostly storage and the old servant quarters. All the supplies should already be up there."

He nodded and then followed her up the stairs. As soon as they were on the second floor she hit a switch and the light fixtures that lined the main hallway came on. "This place has power?"

She nodded. "This place was actually lived in until the forties. That was when the last surviving member of the family died. Sara Winchester."

The fixtures were dated and dim and the artificial ambiance did little to dispel the spooky look of the place. If anything, it made it worse. He expected to look up and find a set of creepy looking twin girls in blue dresses staring at him. This was definitely a Shining moment.

"Spooky, huh?" She asked, eying him.

He shrugged. "Not really."

She grinned then and motioned for him to follow her. There was a T at the end of the hall and she turned right, leading him to the room at the end of that hall.

"Jesus," he muttered when she hit the switch, chasing some of the shadows away.

"This was Sara's room," Carol said excitedly, grabbing his arm and pulling him further into the space. Initially he had the urge to yank his arm out of her grip and tell her to back the hell off but he held back and then discovered that the feel of her hand on him wasn't a bad thing. She looked up at him, her eyes bright even though the light in the room was dim. "She hung herself in here. I figured this would be a good place to start."

"Anybody ever tell you that you're morbid as hell?" He asked, holding her gaze.

Her smile fell and she dropped her hand from his arm. "I'm not morbid," she muttered, her voice soft. "It's just the history of the place is pretty fascinating if you think about it."

He hadn't meant to hurt her feelings but he knew just by the guarded look on her face that he had hit a nerve with his remark. He didn't want her to think that he was mocking her and he wasn't used to caring regardless. He didn't really know how to do damage control but he wanted to. "Morbid ain't a bad thing. It beats the fuck out of being like those prissy chicks you usually hang out with at school."

She glanced up, a small smile playing around her lips. "Most people I know would much rather be stuck with one of those girls than with me. People think I'm weird."

"You _are_ weird," he stated, glancing around the room, not wanting to meet her eyes anymore.

"So are you," she countered. "You never talk to anyone and you still manage to get in trouble all the time. You cussed out Mr. Daniels but you stick up for the kids at school that don't seem to want to stick up for themselves."

He smirked. "Not talkin' to anyone sure beats the hell outta hangin' with a bunch of snobs that don't give a damn about me."

She pursed her lips together and shook her head. "It isn't like they're my friends or anything. We've all just gone to the same school our whole life and when we were younger we were interested in the same things so I still kind of hang out with them."

He made his way to the corner of the room where there was an array of cleaning supplies on one of the narrow tables. "That just don't make a whole lot of sense to me. You don't really like them but you still act like you're friends with them."

"It beats being alone all the time," she said, reaching for a dust rag.

He watched her closely. "Actually it really don't." He grabbed a rag of his own and went to the window, pushing the heavy velvet drapes aside so he could get to work on the window. He could hear her grumbling behind him. He was smiling to himself when he looked down over the yard and saw two sets of headlights pulling around the circular drive.

He cursed to himself. The rain was still coming down but he could still make out two guys as they stepped out of the first car. At first he thought that it must be Daniels with some more volunteers but then he realized that he recognized the second car. He felt a heavy sense of dread. He knew the guy that owned it and knew that this wasn't any volunteer. The guys name was Ralph Webber and he was Merle's age. Merle had actually hung out with him a few years ago and the guy was pretty out there. Even Merle had deemed him to fucked up to run around with and that was saying a lot. There were eight people total, pulling something that looked like a cooler out of the trunk.

He stepped away from the window, letting the curtain fall back over the glass just as one of the guys looked up. Glancing over his shoulder he met Carol's eyes from across the room.

"What's wrong?" She asked, dropping the rag onto the bed and eying him worriedly.

Before he could answer the sound of glass shattering reached their ears and then the bedroom door creaked open. Neither one of them were near it and it had been firmly shut just seconds ago. "We got trouble," he muttered, grabbing her hand on his way past her and leading her to the hallway.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

She knew there were people in the house and she knew that whoever it was it wasn't anyone she wanted to meet. By the look on his face she had the feeling that Daryl knew them, whoever they were.

"We need to leave. Now," he said, his voice hushed and his grip on her arm almost painful. It was obvious that he wasn't sure where he was going. He wasn't taking them near the stairs that would lead them to the foyer. "There's a back set of stairs, right?" He asked, dragging her along with him. "In a house this big there would have to be."

She stopped him by jerking her arm out of his grip. "Who is down there?" She asked, careful to keep the panic out of her voice.

He met her eyes. "Some bad guys. I recognized one of them and if his friends are as nasty as he is then you're in some serious fucking trouble. So we need to leave."

The feeling that came over her didn't make any sense. It wasn't fear for her own safety, which seemed to be at the forefront of _his_ mind. It was fear for the house. They were going to wreck this place if her and Daryl didn't do something to stop them. This filled her with a strange anxiety and a cold anger that surprised her. "I'm not leaving," she said, her voice strong, steely.

His eyes widened and he glanced behind them. "What the hell do you mean, you ain't leavin'? That asshole just got off a hefty prison sentence on a technicality. He's a fuckin' monster. If he finds you here and his friends are anything like him then there ain't a damn thing I can do to keep-"

Behind her a door swung open just as they heard two men reach the landing further down the other hall. They were laughing and talking but Carol couldn't make out what they were saying and before she could even try to listen he was shoving her through the door, pulling it shut behind him. He cursed when he realized why she wasn't moving out of his way. There was nowhere she could go. He had pushed her into a narrow linen closet and there were shelves pushing into her back. She hissed in pain but his hand came up, clamping over her mouth and that was when she realized something else.

She was standing in a pitch black closet with a very attractive boy pressed right up against her. She swallowed hard, her heart, that was already beating hard and fast, started beating harder and faster. She nodded slightly, letting him know that she understood that she needed to be quiet. He dropped his hand. As soon as his hand was away she tried to pull in a breath but found it hard. She tried again to pull air into her lungs but it seemed like there wasn't any oxygen in the tiny space.

"I can't breath," she whispered, feeling even more restricted because his body was pushing against hers. She was surprised the door was holding because he was squished between her and the heavy wood.

"You can breath, just be quiet," he whispered right into her ear.

Outside the door she could easily make out the footsteps of the men and then she heard their voices.

"There's at least one person here," a man said as they drew closer. "We found that bag downstairs and there's lights on. Nobody woulda left in that storm."

She tried once more to pull in a breath. She was starting to feel dizzy and a single bead of sweat slid down the hollow of her spine. "Daryl," she whispered desperately.

He shushed her again. "You have to be quiet."

"But I can't-" Her voice cut off when she felt his hands on her waist.

"You're havin' a panic attack," he breathed into her ear, not daring to raise his voice any more than he had to. The men were still in the hall, moving past the door from the sounds of it. "There's plenty enough air in here. You ain't gonna pass out. Just take a breath."

She closed her eyes, listening to the steady sound of his quiet voice, and managed to take one steadying breath and then another, breathing in through her nose and then out her mouth slowly.

~H~

He could still hear the men in the hallway, talking quietly. They had stopped walking but they were no longer right in front of the door. They were further down. All of this was registering in his mind but he would be a liar if he tried to say that he wasn't distracted. Because he was very distracted. He was in a dark closet, smashed right up against a girl. He was seriously hoping that nothing embarrassing happened because if it did there wasn't anything he could do about it.

He tried focusing on her breathing, now that she was actually able to pull air into her lungs. Unfortunately for him that meant that her warm breath was blowing right across his neck and it had his stomach lurching furiously. Then he felt her move, her head turning so now her lips were next to his ear.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He tried to think about something else. He tried to think about the danger she was in if the men out there found her. He tried to think about the fact that when they were in Sara Winchester's room, the door had opened on it's own. And then another door did the same, just in time, like the house was offering them a place to hide. He focused on these things instead of on her but then he felt her lips quickly press against his jaw.

He didn't come from an overly affectionate family. As a matter of fact, he was used to any touch causing pain. Add that to the fact that he was a fairly healthy sixteen year old, and was currently pressed right against a girl that he had just recently realized was pretty damn hot, and she had just kissed him, even though it was on the cheek, how he responded wasn't really his fault. He turned his head and he kissed her right on the mouth.

And prayed to God in heaven that he didn't get a boner. Cause, Jesus, if he did, she'd know and he'd die. Or want to anyway.

Her lips parted in surprise and her hands went to his shoulders. She didn't try to push him away so he took this as a good sign. He tried not to think about the fact that he'd never kissed a chick before now. It couldn't be that hard to figure out. Besides, Merle was his brother and Merle had all kinds of game. Surely Daryl had enough to get through one stupid kiss.

It was quick. He didn't try to shove his tongue in her mouth or anything because she wasn't that kind of girl. Or he didn't think she was anyway. So he was taken completely by surprise when she gripped the sides of his head and pulled him right back down. The next thing he knew it was her tongue in his mouth. And he had no problems with that.

After a few minutes of that he realized that he hadn't heard anything from the hallway so he reluctantly broke the kiss, turning his head so he could listen. They couldn't stay in this cramped closet all damn night. Before he turned his head again to tell her to stay there so he could see if the hallway was empty he felt something warm and wet hit his cheek.

He frowned, reaching up to wipe it away. It felt sticky, whatever it was. Another drop hit the back of his hand and he had the strange urge to grab Carol and bolt right out of the closet. But just because he couldn't hear the men didn't mean they weren't still out there. He reached behind him and gripped the cold doorknob in his hand.

"I'm gonna slip out just real quick and see if they're gone. If they are we can try to sneak around and get the fuck out of here. This place gives me the creeps," he whispered.

She cleared her throat quietly and he could hear how nervous she was even in that small sound.

He turned the knob and then eased his way out. The hallway was empty so he glanced down at the back of his hand where he had felt the drips land. He stared and then reached up with his other hand, wiping his cheek.

Blood.

He threw the door open, momentarily forgetting about the men that they were suppose to be hiding from. He yanked her out of the space, his eyes scanning the shelves. He cursed, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him when he saw it.

There was a body crammed into the top shelf, the eyes wide, the mouth hanging open and blood, thick and crimson, slowly dripping from between the parted lips. It was Mr. Daniels. Carol spun around when she saw the look on his face. Before she could scream he reached around and covered her mouth with his hand. They watched as the door slowly closed on it's own. She tore his hand away from her mouth and spun around.

"We need to get out of here," she hissed, tears on her face and a frantic terrified look in her eyes that froze the sweat trickling down his back.

"Well look what we have here."

Both their heads shot up at the sound of a man's voice. Daryl turned and shoved her behind his back. It wasn't Ralph standing there so that was a plus but the guy was grinning wickedly, beer in hand.

"We were just leavin'," Daryl said, sounding a lot tougher than he felt.

"What?" The man frowned. "You can't leave just yet. Not with this party just starting and all. We were just talking about how we should have invited more pretty girls to hang out. Looks like I just found one."

"Nah, we're leavin'," Daryl said, turning and giving her a small push to get her moving. He wanted out of this creepy fucking house and he wanted to get her away from these men. He didn't feel good about having the man behind them now but if he could get them to the back stairs and out through the kitchen area then he could get them to the woods and lose those assholes.

He heard the footsteps walking towards them from behind but then they stopped when someone stepped into the hall from the other end, about thirty feet in front of them. It was three more men. The ones that had probably walked past the closet door. He stopped and then Carol gripped his hand. The men smiled and the one behind them started walking towards them again.

To their right, a door opened up, like it was beckoning them to take refuge there. All Daryl could think about for a second was the body in the closet. What would be behind this door? He didn't have time to make a decision on whether to try to find sanctuary behind the door or face the men because Carol was pulling him towards that dark space.

Once they were inside the door slammed shut and suddenly, someone in the hallway screamed. It didn't sound like the men. This was the sound of a woman screaming and then the scream faded and a feminine laugh buffeted his ears. Him and Carol backed away from the door, both jumping when a crack of thunder shook the windows behind them.

He turned, looking for something he could use as a weapon. He knew there was no point in fighting a ghost, and goddamn he knew it was a ghost, but he could use something to fight the men if they made it into the room. Once the thunder trailed off a strange silence filled the room. It filled the whole house. It felt like it filled his head.

The two of them stood there and finally he could make out the sounds of their heavy breathing. And that was all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, this is it for this little story. I hope you enjoy it! If you don't I'm going to blame it on my lack of sleep. I've officially reached the stage of exhaustion where you feel like you're on drugs. So yeah, there is my excuse! Lol Thanks to all of you that gave this little story a shot. It was pretty fun to write but I'm happy about marking another one complete!**

 **Chapter Four**

Carol wasn't angry because the men were going to wreck the house. Not anymore. There had been a body in the closet! A dead body, right above her head! The first time she had ever been kissed by a boy it was in front of a... a corpse.

She felt her body shaking but she couldn't stop it. Her mind felt almost numb and when it didn't feel numb she felt terrified. Like that feeling you get on a roller coaster when you've convinced yourself that the tracks were off balance and you were about to plummet to your death screaming and watching the pavement flying at your face.

It was that kind of fear, but the numb feeling was almost worse. Why on earth had she ever thought this would be a good idea? In what universe did a kid come to place to actually experience the supernatural? She was an idiot. She was a morbid, sentimental, brainless idiot!

"Hey," Daryl said sharply, gripping her hand.

She became aware of a strangled mewling sound and then was horrified all over again to realize that she was the one making the sounds.

He was watching her with wide eyes and she could feel that is hand was shaking in hers but at least he wasn't completely freaking out. She took a deep breath and tried to steady her heart. They needed to get out of here but she wasn't sure exactly sure if the house would let them leave. The thought made her groan out loud. "I want out of here," she whispered.

He nodded. "You and me both."

She screamed when something behind them crashed. They both spun, backing towards the door as the door to the closet slammed into the wall over and over, the noise echoing in her head painfully. She reached behind her in search of the doorknob, willing to fight off the guys that were in the house rather than deal with this insanity. She expected the door to not budge but the knob twisted in her hands. Right before she was able to turn to the door a small figure darted out of the closet and slid under the bed.

It was a little girl that looked to be about five years old. Daryl was suddenly pushing her out of the way, catching her hand again before she could topple over, and nearly tore the door off the hinges. As he dragged her into the hall they heard the little girl giggling. Carol couldn't help it. She turned around and the thing stuck it's head out from under the bed, grinning wickedly and it's eyes glowing white. Carol screamed and then the door slammed shut just as the little thing darted out from under the bed, seeming to run at them on all fours like some animal.

"Jesus fuck. What the fuck was that?" Daryl choked, backing them up until they hit the wall behind them.

She shook her head, her heart pounding and her palms sweating. From a room not far away the sound of a man screaming had them both jumping. "Oh my God," she whispered.

"That little fucker was comin' right at us," Daryl hissed, his hand tightening around hers.

"Don't call it names!" Was this boy insane?

He blew out a breath and started heading down the hall, this time going in the right direction. The main stairs were just a few turns away and then they could get the hell out of this place. "I am never ever volunteering again. Not for anything. Not for as long as I live. If I live," she breathed as they turned down the hallway that would lead them to the stairs.

"You're gonna live. Don't say shit like that," he said sharply, giving her a narrow eyed look. "But you're right. I'm gonna keep my ass out of trouble from here on out. I won't fight in school no more. Lesson learned."

She nodded in agreement. "That's a good idea. You can just hang out with me and I can ditch those girls and we can spend the rest of the year trying to figure out what happened here."

He snorted. "Fuck that. I don't ever wanna mention this place again." He glanced at her quickly, picking up his pace as they made it closer to the stairs. "But hangin' out with you probably wouldn't be so bad."

She wanted to smile at him, or knew that it would be a good time to smile at him but she couldn't bring herself to smile at the moment. Suddenly, when they were just a few feet away from the top of the staircase, two guys stepped off of the top step. They stopped in their tracks and Carol and Daryl did the same. Out of nowhere Carol was seized by a chill that seemed to radiate out from her very bones and she watched her breath escape her lips, frosting in the air.

The men, who had been grinning, suddenly frowned, their eyes shifting to something behind Daryl and Carol. Carol didn't want to look back so she stayed very still, her hand shaking in Daryl's grip.

"What the fuck is that?" One man asked, taking a step back.

Carol felt like every hair on her head was standing on end. She could feel something behind them but she was too afraid to look. She just kept watching the men, that were now backing away. Something cold brushed against her and she stiffened, not moving her head but following the shape with her eyes. A tall woman, skin pale as alabaster and a dress so black that it seemed to absorb the color around her walked past her and Daryl and towards the men.

"You better back the fuck up you ugly bitch or..." The older guy said, but his voice shook.

The woman stopped, turned her head slowly until she was staring right into Carol's eyes, even though the woman's eyes were only dark holes in her face, and then she opened her mouth. "Run if you must, child."

The voice was wicked, icy, unfriendly. Carol took a step back and then another and watched in horror as the woman, with only a jerk of her head, sent the man closest to the stairs toppling down. The other man, ghost white now, tried to turn and run but the woman's hands gripped him by the back of the neck.

She didn't see what happened to him because Daryl turned and bolted down the hallway, back the way they had came, dragging her with him. This time she didn't let him pull her in the wrong direction. She knew where the back stairs were. She almost didn't want to go to them because they would have to cross the room where that... thing had hidden under the bed. But she wasn't about to walk right past that woman either.

When they turned down that particular hallway they stopped. Daryl cursed and she wanted to cry. The guys that she was sure they had escaped from earlier when they had gone into the bedroom, were standing in the hall, facing them. They looked pale and their expressions seemed blank.

"What the hell happened to them?" Daryl whispered.

She shook her head. "I don't know." She kept her voice as quiet as his.

They stood there for a few more seconds and then the men turned, facing the wall, and then walked right through it. She made a strange whimpering sound because she couldn't walk past the spot where the men had been standing. There was no way.

"We ain't got a choice," he said as though he could read her mind, his voice strained. "They didn't come after us. Not like that thing in the room did." He was trying to sound encouraging but his voice cracked. He led her down the hall, neither of them looking in either direction and not daring to glance behind them. She pressed further into his side when they passed the room the thing was in but nothing happened. One more turn had them at the top of the stairs.

They both looked down into the darkness below. These stairs hadn't been used in a long time. The only reason Carol knew about them at all was because she had checked out books about the house at the library and inside of a few of them were blueprints of the place. Finally, they both took a step. She cried out when she ran right into a large spider web. It felt like small ghostly hands running over her face and through her hair but Daryl steadied her and then brushed them away because she was too panicked to do anything but flail wildly. The last thing either of them needed was for one of them to plummet to the bottom of the steep flight of stairs.

They hurried through the door and into the kitchen. The atmosphere didn't feel as dense down here and the back door was only a few feet away. Without a backwards glance Daryl took the lead and yanked the door open, shoving her onto the back porch in front of him, which she found extremely gallant of him considering she knew he was scared witless.

On the porch they both braced their hands on their knees for a few long seconds, catching their breath. When she looked up he was composing himself, taking a deep breath and looking out over the back yard. The rain had slowed to a drizzle and she had left everything in the house. "What do we do now?" she asked.

He glanced at her and then shrugged out of his leather jacket. He handed it to her. "We get the fuck outta here, that's what."

"Should we call the police?" She asked, too cold to turn down the jacket he was holding out for her. She slipped it on and breathed his scent in deeply.

He shook his head. "And tell'em what? That we saw a ghost fuck up a group of thugs? That we found our principle stuffed in a closet?"

She followed him down the steps. It was getting dark fast and the slate colored clouds still held the promise of more rain. The thought of going home to an empty house and staying alone all weekend had chills running down her spine. She didn't think that she would ever be able to sleep again. Especially not in that empty house. She wished her parents were going to be back sooner than Monday but they did this often. She couldn't call them now and ask them to come back just because she was scared. Besides, he was right. No one would ever believe them.

Once they made it to the street without being dragged away by something from the woods she finally sighed in relief, but it was short lived. He turned to her then. "I gotta go this way. Just bring the jacket to school and I'll pick it up there."

She nodded. He was going to be walking in the other direction. She didn't think before she spoke. "Hey Daryl?"

He turned, shaking rain from his hair and looking at her expectantly.

She shifted on her feet. "This is probably going to sound really bad but is there any way you could come home with me? My parents are gonna be gone until Monday and after all of that..."

He seemed to mull it over for a few seconds and then he nodded. "Yeah. My brothers not around much anymore and my old man will most likely end up in jail by the time the weekend is over. You think those things could follow us home?"

She felt the blood drain from her face. "God, I hope not."

~H~

Her house was a lot nicer than his. She had loaned him a pair of her dads old sweats and a tee shirt so he wasn't stuck wearing wet clothes. The storm raged on outside. Her folks had left her cash so she ordered them a pizza. She talked non stop and he realized that it was a nervous habit.

"Do you think the cops will fingerprint the place and think we're a couple of teenage Bonny and Clyde types?" She asked. She was sitting cross legged on the couch, the pizza box between them. There was a movie on but neither felt like watching a horror movie, even though it was Halloween, so they agreed on a mindless comedy that was actually pretty good.

He shook his head. "They can't think we'd do all that. We don't even know if they're all dead. All I know is, if I ever hear of you volunteering to do anything else at school, I'm gonna get arrested for lockin' your ass in your own locker."

She smiled thinly. "I think I'm over being so morbid. I've been overdosed on the supernatural. If I never see or hear another spooky thing for the rest of my life, I'll die happy."

He nodded in agreement and changed the subject to a topic that didn't give him goosebumps. They talked well into the night and when they ran out of things to say he somehow found himself making with her. They both ended up falling asleep on the couch.

Neither one of them were the same after that terrifying night at the Winchester Mansion. Daryl stayed true to his word and didn't get in anymore trouble at school. Carol ditched the crowd that she had pretended to be friends with. The two of them were inseparable, but they never talked about what had happened. There were plenty of other things to do than talk about ghosts.

Mr. Daniels was replaced by another asshole principal but Daryl never got sent to his office. There was never any mention, on the news or in the papers, about bodies being found on the property and Daryl didn't spend much time thinking about it.

That next year the two of them stayed inside at Carol's, watching Step Brothers and eating pizza and not mentioning the fact that it was Halloween at all. Her parents were gone for the weekend but she didn't have to worry about being stuck at home alone when they decided to bail on her. He was always around.


End file.
